


Soft and Warm

by AnnonnyAnonymous, FandomN00b



Series: Gifts and Prompts [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gift Fic, Like the fluffiest of fluff, Morning Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:21:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22602388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnonnyAnonymous/pseuds/AnnonnyAnonymous, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomN00b/pseuds/FandomN00b
Summary: Merrill can't remember the last time her heart has felt so at home.
Relationships: Isabela/Merrill (Dragon Age)
Series: Gifts and Prompts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636435
Comments: 7
Kudos: 22





	Soft and Warm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Galaxy_Raven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaxy_Raven/gifts).



> Another Secret Palentine gift drabble for Galaxy_Raven, who loves all the best ships and morning snuggles!

Soft. Everything is soft. And warm. And she smells someone else on her. Salty like the sea and sweet like rum and sweat. And she smells herself -- a bouquet of dried herbs and earth and the bitterness of new, green growth -- on someone else as they lie there, bodies splayed apart by sleep, but still tangled together like tree roots in the sheets.

Merrill can’t remember the last time she felt so soft and warm and... _home_. It’s familiar somehow, but distant, winding, confused. Like when she used to try to find her way back to the alienage alone from Hawke’s estate in Hightown at night. Was it a left or a right at the foreboding statue of a dwarf? She often got so distracted by things that were new and unfamiliar and fascinating and terrifying that it was easy to forget that the city was supposed to be her home. 

She’s been here before, she _should_ know the way, but she doesn’t quite remember when or how.

Wait. No. Yes she does! The last time she actually felt like _this_ , she was a little girl. Waking up in an aravel, surrounded by a pile of her own kin. Soft and warm and _home_. Before she was sent away because of her magic to live with the Sabrae clan. Her home already had enough magic. She wouldn't fit.

So she was sent somewhere else. To be the Keeper’s first. _Marethari’s_ First. But she still didn't fit. Too curious. Too ambitious. Too proud. Of her people and what they once were.

The warm soft things are always fleeting, as her heart clenches, and her fists follow, digging fingernails into palms.

“Kitten…” somebody purrs. Not just somebody. _Isabela_ rolls over. Her eyes are still closed, but she reaches for Merrill’s hands. Pulls her fists apart. Presses her own palms flat against Merrill’s, against the indentations and the scars that she's put there herself. And for a minute, Merrill wonders if Isabela has somehow learned some kind of healing magic, as the warmth and the softness return and the familiar stinging pain in her palms and in her heart begins to disappear. But this is certainly better than any healing spell _Merrill_ has ever been able to cast. 

She breathes in the intoxicating scents of them mixed together, and she tries not to think about her clan. Either of them. They are not her home. She has been told she no longer belongs among the Dalish. Now her people are humans, and a dwarf, and a broody elf who still calls her “witch,” but welcomes her into his home regularly for tea and lessons on Elvish all the same...

And _Isabela_. Merrill thinks she must be some kind of divine being. A spirit of hope or love or...Generosity. Yes. That _mus_ t be it.

She stares at her in amazement as Isabela relaxes her hands and lazily intertwines their fingers. Her long, dark, lively hair that twists and rolls like ocean waves spread all around her like a halo. Her lovely bronze skin speckled with delicate dark freckles wherever the sun is allowed to linger, which, to Merrill’s delight, is on a great many of her most beloved features. She gently pulls Merrill into the crook of her neck and nuzzles against her with a sigh. And Merrill knows that her heart is home.

“Vhenan…” it slips out, in a voice she hardly recognizes as her own. Merrill pulls a hand up and covers her mouth, a little squeak in her throat.

“Hmm…?” Isabela finally opens one eye, peering down at her. “What’s that?”

“Vhenan.” She repeats it. On purpose this time. With confidence. Because she realizes she means it. “Er, my... _heart_ , I suppose. Is the best translation...” she explains with less confidence.

“Oh.” Both of Isabela’s eyes are open now. _Oh_ …

Merrill isn’t sure what this means. Has she made a mistake? Curse the hubris that has always been her downfall...or the Dread Wolf...or whatever made her say such an honest, open, _profane_ thing to this goddess without anything else to offer.

But now Isabela is leaning up on her elbows and peering curiously at her. And those beautiful sunset-colored pools of heat and desire and whimsy are suddenly full of something altogether new and different.

“Merrill…” Isabela whispers, her voice wavering in a way Merrill has never heard before.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have --” Merrill begins, shaking her head apologetically. 

But before she can say anything else, Isabela has gathered her up in her soft, strong, sun-drenched arms and her mouth is pressed against Merrill’s and she feels that warmth of home flowing through her again with a ferocity she has _never_ felt. Not even as a child.

Isabela finally pulls away, and Merrill fears the worst. That she’s misunderstood. That she’s overstepped. That this may be goodbye again. That Isabela might be gone in an hour, off sailing again and sharing herself with another. She _is_ Generosity, after all.

“I love you, too.” She smiles. An earnest smile. One Merrill has only seen glimpses of in the most precious of moments between them. And Merrill sees the most beautiful sunrise she’s ever seen in her heart’s glistening eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I am having too much fun. You're so right about these two. They really are SO SO GOOD together!


End file.
